


When Two Derenged Minds Collide

by TheMightyPotoo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Because I can, Bits of fluff, Ella gives zero fucks, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Reaper is OOC and grumpy as fuck, Suicidal character involved, deal with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7629577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyPotoo/pseuds/TheMightyPotoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reaper is wounded and kind enough not to shoot his mourning savior. He might be even grateful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I already posted it on ff.net but I kinda want to see how Ao3 society responds to this stuff.
> 
> You guys need a warning: this gets dark and angsty. It is not a happy story. Mostly.
> 
> Welp, enjoy!

Faint footsteps echoed in the hallway as you walked.

You slowly were getting used to the empty hallway. You made it this way after all. 

It was all a horrible idea from the very beginning, you thought as you adjusted your black suit. Your husband hated it oh, so much...Yet it was the most fitting you could put on yourself. You readjusted a bow tying your hair up and opened the door. You didn’t even squinted your eyes as bright light of the day outside hit your pupils. You just sighed and put on the sunglasses. 

You just wanted the day to be over.

There was something very soothing about the funerals and you knew that when the ordeal was done, you would be able to rest. As people passed you, you were slowly realizing that their condolences didn’t made it any better. You were dull on the inside. Almost as dull when they told you. Five years together suddenly meant nothing. And you knew you sacrificed them on your own will. You chose a role...You chose a calling over your future together. Your husband died solely because of your decisions and there was no going back. 

You felt a single tear roll down your cheek as you walked back to your empty home.

Yet, you felt that you weren’t alone when you opened the door. 

It didn’t mattered. The sun was starting to set and if there was anything willing to end you...it would go smooth.

You lived alone now, far away from civilisation and curious eyes of society. You poured yourself a drink. A glass filled to the brim with rum felt strangely cold in your grip yet there was something, oh, so very soothing about the burning liquor seeping down your throat. There was a noise outside but the liquor assured you it was nothing serious that needed your attention. And you were perfectly fine with that. You just sat there, in his favourite armchair, waiting for the presence to show itself or disappear.

You were an assassin, very silent and effective. Your weapon were poisons, so strong that one drop could get rid of most of your enemies. Your husband knew nothing about your occupation, he thought you worked for a perfume making company. But what sort of a perfume company murders their employee’s spouse? Yeah...You emptied the glass and refilled it immediately. 

No, you sighed and set the glass to rest on the table. It was not an assassination…It was an accident. He was not meant to be the target. You were the target. And the knowledge made you uneasy...but there was no turning back the time. 

Whoever was after you, got what they wanted. 

They made you quit.


	2. Guest

Not much changed after a year.

Maybe your hair got a bit more white than blond, maybe your eyes lost a bit of their glint. But you sat in the same spot, drinking rum again. And you were alone with your thoughts. But your life kept going. The funeral changed nothing. Life had to go on and you were fully aware of it. 

You looked at the window. Snow came early this year...You smiled softly. Cold was nice. Cold numbed the pain...or made you feel anything at all. So did the presence. You stilled, your faint smile disappeared, turning your lips into a thin line. 

You knew that presence. 

You slowly stood up. It was the same that was there a year ago and you were more than certain about it...but it was way weaker than a year ago. As if...wounded? You stood up and walked over to the window. 

The snow covered everything, including your favourite bench in the backyard. You grimaced. You didn’t liked the cold in this form. It hurt your eyes...but still you spotted something. 

Years of training whispered to stay at home. You had an idea that whatever presence it was out there...it was nearly dead. But your curiosity and will to, after all, help, barely ever agreed with what you were trained to do. You pulled on some shoes and zipped up your hoodie. It was high time to move anyway. You went out through your kitchen’s back door, straight into your backyard. Straight to the dark spot you noticed. The closer you got, the more certain you were that it, whatever it was, was still alive. And it was very human-like. You dug into the snow...and you were right. Soon enough you managed to pull a metal clad hand out of the snow. 

It was cold...but not as cold as corpse left buried in the snow. You frowned and, ignoring the cold, proceeded to dig a body out of the snow. When you were done you took a look at the body...and you, yet again, froze. The mask...that hood. You bit down hard on your lower lip. It was the man that killed your husband. It was the man who barred you of the love of your life. 

It was him who pulled the trigger.

You smiled bitterly at the unmoving creature.

-We meet again...Reaper.

The hell was he doing in your backyard? You had no idea. But soon enough you noticed that snow around his back area was stained red. Red meant blood. Blood meant a wound. But wasn’t he supposed to be a half-ghost? You turned around and run back towards your home. You came back with the most durable blanket you had and started moving the still body onto it. Why? Corpse don’t answer questions. The dead don’t do anything useful. You had your answers. 

You killed the man who paid Reaper for killing your husband. (You watched him choke on his own tongue as you sipped on your glass of wine.) It was enough. The man was heavy, you noted. But you knew how to make yourself going. So you did. When you were done placing the body on the blanket, you started pulling all of that back towards your home. 

It was not as hard to get him on the blanket as it was to get him inside and on a couch. The fire in the fireplace was dancing in a lazy manner, flames from time to time licking the sides. But it was not your main concern. Now, that you decided to bring the creature inside, you simply weren’t allowed to let him die. Not caring about the Reaper’s clothes much, you took them off along with the hood and mask. You left his bottoms be as it seemed way too much effort. You turned him to lie on his chest. There were no visible wounds so you decided his back was a go to. And you were right. A deep, short gush was gracing his back and if you haven’t seen things like this before, you would have assumed that it was beyond repair.

You smiled to yourself and got up to fetch some of the medical supplies. And a poison you adored. You sat at the coffee table right next to the unmoving body. Cleaning it up was definitely a thing to do. You cleaned up the edges of the wound and started searching for anything that could be stuck inside. As much as you knew: there was nothing. You smiled softly again and took a long sip of rum. 

You liked sewing. Clothes or human skin...no difference. And you had the proper stitches and needles. Your hands became bloody in no time but the wound also became smaller and smaller. Skilfully sawn skin still looked pale but it was still in better shape than a few moments before. Once again you cleaned the wound and dressed it as well as you could without moving the man. You cleaned the area up...and that was it. 

You pulled a blanked over the figure and set off to tidy up the bloody-snowy mess you made on your way back home. You cleaned your hands and changed the clothes. Blood was rather familiar to you but it was starting to block your moves as it dried. Another black hoodie, another plain black pants, another black t-shirt. You always were a rather simple person. So you sat back on the coffee table and watched the stranger, a new glass of rum back in your hand. The man was very much unconscious and even if he had any guns on him, there was no use trying to take them away. You knew enough mercenaries not to do it. 

You decided to study his scarred face just a bit closer. You remembered the face from the posters from years ago but you didn’t bothered to search your mind far enough to find the name it belonged to. His skin looked as if bleached and had an off shade of, what once it must have been, caramel. Short, messy dark hair and barely visible stubble barely held your attention as it almost instantly switched to his expression. His features...he was frowning when you first brought him inside. And now his features were slowly relaxing. Maybe it was the heat working it’s way into him...maybe it were the painkillers you slipped into the wound. Who knew. 

He was well built. Not exactly your type but you were fine with such a sight being presented to you. Enemy or not: you liked to look. You liked to watch and observe. And the man was breathing. Slowly, but steadily, with no wheezing. It was a good sign, at least for him. You sat there for hours, not letting your eyes wander off his form. You only took sips of rum every now and again.

It was already getting dark when you decided to put your glass down. You looked away only briefly, to make sure you didn’t damage your favourite glass. When you turned back, all you did was raise an eyebrow. 

There was a gun, quite a massive gun, pointed right at your face. You were in those kind of situations way too many times for it to impress you. You looked at Reaper’s face. At the first sight you knew that movement costed him a lot of energy. He was panting heavily, droplets of sweat rolling down his forehead.

-You’re wounded. And this won’t help you. -You stated simply, unphased by the gun still aimed at your face. You stood up. You knew his hand was shaking. And a shaking hand has issues with pulling the trigger. -Put it down and rest, I’ll bring you some more painkillers.

You heard him curse under his breath and drop his gun as you walked away. You were back soon, with a few pills and a glass of water. You would’ve offered him some liquor if it wasn’t for the fact that it didn’t go well with such a strong medicine. You sat back down on the coffee table and neared the pills to his mouth. You felt his intense stare at you all this time. It was not enough to intimidate you. Not since you stopped caring about your life. 

-I won’t force you to take them. But if I were you, I would’ve. Healing such a deep gush hurts as hell, doesn’t it?

You knew more than well that your voice was way too calm for him to feel comfortable with. His eyes never left yours, as if he was looking for something in them besides cold, blue stare. After a few minutes of a stare-down he eventually obliged and nodded his head slightly. 

You slipped the pills inside his mouth along with a sip of water. He choked a bit but soon he was staring back at you. You gave him a soft smile and set the glass down.

-Sleep now. You need to heal and the sleep will help. -You stood up again, intending on leaving him be and going to do some washing up. -You are not being held captive, Reaper. I also don’t intend on hurting you so you might as well use my hospitality and rest.

You watched him eye you some more and then he finally nodded, apparently too exhausted to say a word. You were content with that. You watched him close his eyes and soon doze off into peaceful slumber. And you? You did the washing, took a shower and went back to kitchen to make some coffee. It was going to be a long night.

***

And it was. You sat by his side all the time, every now and again checking his pulse and temperature. It was all that you could do. Or maybe not...but it was all you wanted to do. In the morning you went to your bedroom to brush out your hair. He found you while you were guiding the brush down your almost white hair. You looked at him from the mirror.

-You shouldn’t stand up. The stitches might let go.

-Why did you save me?

His voice was rasp. It was a good sign. It meant he only just woke up. His face looked tired...yet fierce. You liked when your patients were strong enough to look fierce.

-Why shouldn’t I?

You mused and continued to brush your hair, your eyes never leaving him.

-You were Scorpion’s wife. And you know perfectly well who killed him.

-Yes, I do. -You eventually put the brush down and turned to face him. You smiled softly at him.-But you’re wrong. You never killed the Scorpion. You see...I am the Scorpion.

You watched as he turned even paler than he was before, his features twitching slightly. He was gripping the door frame tightly.

-...What?

You let out a soft sigh as you stood up. You saw that he was trying to back away...but his legs were not letting him. The whole situation was quite amusing. Such a well built man was afraid of a woman. Not even particularly well muscled or shaped, just a normal woman.

-You killed the wrong one, Reaper. But I hold no grudge. -You lightly cupped his face. He didn’t back away. -You were just a tool after all. And I got my vengeance. 

You let go of his chin and walked towards the kitchen, gesturing him to follow. He did. You made him sit at the table. You watched him wince in pain but soon his expression turned back to stern, maybe a bit confused and very much angry one. He knew he was vulnerable against you, even if you were just a petty woman. 

You weren’t skilled in fight. Poisons were your weapon. But he knew more than well what you were capable off. You moved over to the fridge and started making scrambled eggs, as if what you said earlier was just a sentence about a weather or something equally trivial. 

-You mind telling me how come you ended up in my backyard?

You asked, turning on the stove. You didn’t had to look around to know he tensed up, his eyes leaving your figure. 

-I...it’s not any of your business.

-Fine by me.

You shrugged and continued. You also decided to make some toast. You were busy making the breakfast as you heard some shuffling and a chair being pulled back. You sighed as you felt cold metal of the gun being pressed to your temples. You took the eggs off of the fire so they won’t burn.

-I could finish that job right now.

He growled, an inhuman taint staining his aura. You knew he was able to pull the trigger now. And there would have been nothing stopping him from doing so.

-You’re right. -You smiled softly and turned to face him, your eyes resting on his. He had such pretty, dark eyes…- You’re not getting paid for it though. Plus it would’ve been quite rude.

He was eyeing you, his expression grim. 

-Who told you it was me?

You shrugged.

-I saw you. I watched you reap his soul too, if that concerns you. -You lowered your voice and sighed. -Not a pretty sight. Neither of you deserved that.

The last thought just slipped out...but it wasn’t all that worrying. Nightmares that included the scene sill left you sleepless for days but over last half of the year you actually got used to them. You knew more than well that you were pushing some buttons that you shouldn’t even touch at the first place. But you were always like this. Well, at least since sunshine in your life was taken away from you. And you never feared death. Some claimed you insane...maybe they weren’t all that wrong. 

The silence lingered between you two, cold steel still pressed firmly against your temples. You were actually curious if he would pull the trigger or if he was just asserting some dominance over you. If further was the case: it wasn’t working at all. You were all calm on the inside. You didn’t feared death therefore, you didn’t feared the Reaper. As simple as it was. You had nothing more to lose and you were at peace with yourself. You looked him deep in the eyes again, scanning for his intentions. But there was something that even you had issues with pin-pointing. 

You figured that it might have been your stare what was stopping him from putting a bullet into your head. You sent him an apologetic look and slowly closed your eyes, a soft smile never leaving your lips. You were ready to see your husband again...but the shot never came. You had no idea how much time passed but you eventually felt the gun leave your head. When you heard it drop to the ground, you opened your eyes, confused look plastered to your face. 

Reaper was not looking at you. He was sat back at the table, his hands clasped together. He was looking somewhere to the side...perhaps out of the window? That would have been a nice view for him. 

You smiled softly again and went back to making eggs and toast, gun left at peace on the cold tiles of the kitchen.


	3. Shopping and Stitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'll just copy and paste it here...but nope, I had to start reworking some bits and pieces.  
> Oh well, enjoy

Next few days passed without anyone being held at the gunpoint. After a week you started to get used to companion at your own home. You weren’t talking almost at all, the only topic being his healing wound. You were watching over your guest patiently, not letting his moods get into you. 

And damn, he was moody.

This time he followed you into the garden, his face grim as always. You were starting to believe he was just looking for an occasion to strangle you but for some reason he wasn’t finding any. You looked back at him, unmoved by him wearing only a t-shirt on his upper half.

-Hot blooded, aren’t you.- Reaper only scowled at you some more. -I told you that you can stay in, I just need to do the shopping.

-I’m going.

He crossed his hands over his chest. You shrugged.

-Fine. But at least grab that hood of yours. I’m not treating your pneumonia.

He was eyeing you for a while but eventually his body scattered into dark mist. You raised an eyebrow. You haven’t seen that happen yet but that must have been the reason he was able to spy on you in your own house so easily. It didn’t bothered you, it was more of one of those little, curious things he did. You still had no idea if he was human or not but you didn’t bothered. Figuring he can easily follow you, you headed to the car parked at your front porch.

You waited inside simply because it was starting to snow again and you knew that it would be a while for you to be able to change clothes if they got wet. And if you stayed out for long enough, they would. 

You turned the key to start the engine but as it went alive, you almost jumped. Startled, you glared at Reaper who decided to materialize himself on the passenger’s seat. Just as if walking and opening door suddenly became passé…  
But, at least, he put the cape of his on. The hood too. You were glad he left the mask be for the time being. Too many questions could be asked and, as you thought, neither of you wanted that. 

-Fasten your seatbelt. 

You ordered and he did as he was told to. And you thought it was weird that he listened. But there was a bit of a drive ahead of you so you decided to focus on that instead.

You drove in silence. When you finally reached the small town nearby, snow also decided to take a break from falling. How convenient. You parked the car in front of the shop and looked over at your guest.

-Stay in car?

You tried, already aware of how this will end up. He just glared at you and got out of the car. Surprisingly enough, he looked as if he was waiting for you. You sighed and got out too, not even bothering to lock the door. The town was small so stealing from you would have been like stealing from their own house. Not even mentioning that it was easy enough for you to track whomever took your property and bring them down…

You put on a soft smile as you passed Reaper and went into the shop. 

-Ah, Elizabeth! -You internally cursed as you heard the cheerful voice coming from behind the counter. You hoped she would be asleep. -You weren’t here last Wednesday! What happened?

You glanced over at Reaper.

**_Reaper’s POV_ **

She annoyed you more than you cared to admit. Not only was she not afraid of you, she was reading your mind also. Or at least it seemed so. Scorpion’s widow...no, scratch that. Scorpion was one of those people who just made you want to put a bullet into their head. You tried that with her. Twice. With no results. 

Your back ached but there was no way you would admit that to her...or let her drive away alone. Why? You cursed at yourself every time the thought crossed your mind. But you owed her quite a bit. That was exactly how you ended up in a tiny, little town in the middle of snowy nowhere. 

In a shop. 

The girl at the counter seemed to know Scorpion.

_Elizabeth._

You scolded yourself. Of course you knew her name. You were watching her for over a year now. Not that she noticed. And even if she did: she was too much of a mess to notice that or do anything about that.

That smile of hers annoyed you too.

-My husband’s friend decided to pay me a visit.

-Ooooh….-You felt that at least one of the women were watching you. Or more likely: devouring you with her eyes. And it wasn’t Elizabeth. - Is there any chance he is single?

She cooed at you. The girl was rather annoying, you decided.

-No.

You lied and went over to take a look at the rifles they had. Not that they interested you but you would rather shoot yourself than talk any more. Plus your back still was hurting. You picked up one of the prettier guns and silently examined it while listening to the two women talk. The girl from the counter huffed.

-So grumpy. If he is like that always he will never find a wife.

You heard Scorpion chuckle.

-I don’t think he is looking for one now, Alex. The same as always...but I guess you can double it.

_Alex_ most possibly missed that but you knew that it all was just a mask. Elizabeth didn’t chuckle. She barely smiled. But you couldn’t deny that she was good at hiding her true emotions. You gripped the rifle a bit tighter. You hated your mind for it but you felt guilty for putting her in that state. 

**_Ella’s POV_ **

You watched Alex grab everything you asked for. You were, just maybe, a bit bored. And a little anxious for sure. You hadn’t had any liquor today. And your body definitely needed some. But not in public. You never drank in public and you weren’t willing to change it. Even if you knew that way back home will be a pain.

-You want the rum doubled too?

You heard Alex shout from the back of the shop. You debated it for a few seconds.

-No, just toss in a bottle of vodka.

You decided your current alcohol supply would be just enough. From the corner of your eye you watched Reaper tinker with some rifles. You frowned. You actually thought he had better taste in guns. Oh, well. You shrugged the thought off as Alex came back.

-There’s quite a bit of it. I’ll wake up Henry and he’ll bring it to your car.

-No need to. -Seriously, this man needed to stop doing that in front of you. And in public. You shot Reaper a glare as he mysteriously appeared right next to you. You hoped Alex didn’t noticed the bits of black mist quickly disappearing into his form. -I’ll take care of it.

-Oh, so nice of you…-Betty cooed while eyeing the man up and down. Honestly…- Follow me, you have a lot to carry.

She winked at him and you almost laughed as you noticed his expression turning into disgust for a brief second. He shot you a glare but it was not your fault he offered to help. You thought that he might break the stitches in the process. You frowned as the two briefly disappeared at the back of the shop. 

-Alex?

You just barely raised your voice but just enough for her to hear you.

-Yes, snowflake?

She shouted back at you.

-Toss in some more painkillers. You know, the ones that doctor told me to take. My headaches are horrible lately.

***

After you came back from the shopping trip it was peaceful again. You still didn’t talked much but it suited you both. It was also interesting that Reaper refused to leave. This and some of his actions picked your attention...but apart from that it was almost idyllically.

Or as idyllically as it can be with two assassins in one house. 

At least up until the day of taking out the stitches.

-Lie down on your chest, I’ll be as delicate as possible.

You instructed the Reaper as you took another sip from your glass of rum. He obeyed yet was looking at you...maybe worried? Drunk surgeons aren’t as good as sober ones after all. But who said you were drunk? This time you had surgical gloves on and were handling a rather sharp looking scissors. 

-You drink quite a bit.

He commented, laying down flat on his stomach. You nodded in response as you started taking off the dressing.

-Yes. I do that.

Was all he got from you. He hissed in pain as you lightly pulled at the string. The stitches were definitely not necessary there any more. You said nothing more, just went to cutting the string and pulling bits of it out. He was a rather tough man...and you liked that with a simple pull of a string you could make him hiss in pain. You found it nice to have any power over such a rugged creature again. 

Yet, the dullness was still there. 

You slept soundly whenever you could. Haunted by nightmares, yes, but not even slightly worried that you might not wake up. Did you trust the man you decided to let into your house? No. You never trusted a mercenary before and you were not willing to change that...even if something in the back of your head was begging for you to re-brand him. But to what? 

-Maybe you should drink less when you’re doing this kind of stuff?

-Nah…No need to.-You pulled out last bit of string and started to clean and dress the wound again.- This is rather automatic for me and alcohol changes nothing. Well, maybe makes me more pure to myself.

You chuckled at your own joke while putting the last plaster on.

-Sit up. -You ordered. - I need to put on some bandages too.

You watched as he silently did what he was told to. He also raised his arms as if to give you better access to the wound and to better roll the bandage around. You had to stand up to do it but you didn’t minded at all. You were starting to enjoy this.

-Then...why do you keep helping me? -You looked down at him. Only right then you realized that his face was almost buried in your boobs. You frowned. Hopefully at least he enjoyed it. His cheeks were a light shade of pink. Quite adorable. -I had you at the gunpoint. I was ordered to kill you. I killed your husband. Why? 

You paused mid movement, his eyes resting on yours. This time he was demanding an answer.

-Why?

You mimicked him and he nodded. 

-Yes. Why didn’t you kill me when you had a chance? -He paused. You felt a small shiver crawl up your spine as you noticed his lip tremble. -Why do you act as if nothing happened?

You sighed deeply and haphazardly finished wrapping him in the bandage. You sat down on the coffee table and looked at him, your expression almost equally grim as his.

-Because it all is past. -You stated simply and picked up your glass. You emptied whatever was left in there without even wincing as the liquor burned the back of your throat. You looked him in the eye. You got taken aback by the softness that met your tired sight. -And past is to be forgotten. Left behind. I’m helping you because you needed and still need help, Reaper. Nothing to it.

You were about to stand up and walk away to grab another glass full of rum. It was a bit much for him to ask of you and yet, you felt fine when sharing a bit of your brain with him. It didn’t hurt any more...at least for now. You felt numb and only the liquor, which became your dear friend over the last year, could fix it. You were walking away when you felt a firm grip on your wrist. 

You looked over at the source of the pressure and you raised an eyebrow at the hand holding your wrist. Reaper’s eyes were stern and as if plastered to your face. You felt your heart briefly pick up a beat but you forced it to slow down in less than a second. When he spoke again his voice was almost soft, heavy with something you had trouble figuring out.

-I’m sorry. I’m sorry for taking away your husband. -The silence lingered. He also didn’t let go of your wrist so you just stood there. -And it’s Gabriel. Gabriel Reyes. 

A soft smile played on your lips before you yanked your wrist out of his grip. 

-Ella. Just Ella.

You had nothing more to say so you walked away to grab yourself another drink. From all sudden you felt very tired, as if all those nights of staying awake to watch over Gabriel just now decided to take a toll on you. You weren’t poisoned. You weren’t drugged. You knew when you were just tired. And that made you want to laugh. You used to go months without sleep yet just a few days spent with the Reaper made you even more tired. You covered your face with a palm of your hand to hide the chuckle.

-Are you alright?

Gabriel must have taken it as a sign that something was wrong with you. You were surprised to see him standing right at your side, his hands ready to grab your shoulders to steady you. It was sweet of him, you decided. But you weaved it off.

-Yeah...just a bit tired. 

-I see. -He moved away just a bit, most probably just to give you space. And you were fine with that. -You need your rest. Let me cook the dinner today?

It was an order mixed with a question and you knew it way to well. Not really willing to argue, you nodded.

-Fine. I’ll be in the bedroom if you’ll need anything.

And you went down the hallway, straight in your bedroom. You didn’t cared if your clothes were still on or not. Nothing mattered at the moment. All you felt was a sting right in your heart, as if you lost your sunshine again. You despised the fact that the feeling came back after a year of peace...seemingly with doubled force. 

You wanted it gone. 

You wanted everything gone, that including yourself.


	4. Equilibrium

When you woke up the sun has set for good already.

You sighed heavily as you sat up and you rubbed your eyes. You were such a mess…

You rested your heavy forehead on your palms, letting your nails dig into your scalp. Your first thought was to go to the living room and grab a glass of rum...but then his eyes flashed right before your sight. Beautiful, dark eyes. You felt like screaming, crying and destroying something all at once. Why did his eyes had to be the same as Jacob’s…?

You felt tears slowly roll down your wrist and further down your elbow. You were taken by surprise by your own body. How was it able to produce any more tears? You wanted to shake it off but a thought occupying your brain never left you at peace. WHY did he had to appear a year after Jacob died...and why was he there when you came back from his funeral?

But then a thought crossed your mind.

You slowly looked up.

A crooked grin slowly crept it’s way up to your face. 

Oh, you knew a way or two of getting those answers…And maybe something else out of him.

And you had nothing to lose. So why not gamble a bit more?

***

When you entered the hallway a smell of something cooking made you sniff around. You almost forgot that you allowed Gabriel to cook. You pocketed a tiny flask and walked towards the kitchen ready to see a full disaster. You knew very well how small were the odds that a mercenary could cook, not even mentioning a male one.

Yet, you were pleasantly surprised by a table set for two. A single candle lit up in the middle. Gabriel, who managed to find himself one of your way oversized black shirts was pouring wine into the glasses. Spaghetti, you noticed. You felt a soft pang of guilt as you silently walked over to him.

-Smells nice. How big are the losses?

He visibly jumped, apparently surprised by your appearance. You just smiled softly at him and took a place at the table. He eyed you sternly but eventually relaxed.

-None? -He sighed in annoyance. -Jesus woman...You move-

-Like a ghost? -You interrupted, a soft smile tugging on the corners of your lips. -Yeah...old habits die hard, you know.

Sneaking poison into drinks and pushing it up someone’s vein were challenging tasks indeed. But when your body learned to do it by heart, there was no way of pushing it out of your system. You picked up the glass and took a slow sip. The wine was dry and you knew the taste well. He must have taken the bottle form the pantry...from Jacob’s stash. That sealed the deal. 

-Pretty much. -He shook his head and moved back to the stove. You watched his back carefully, your hands working on their own. -I assumed you’re fine with something simple, I found some ground meat in the fridge.

-It’s fine.

You shrugged. 

-You’re not picky at all. -He mused as he set a plate in front of you. - I wasn’t expecting that.

-Not picky for a mercenary’s wife or for an assassin?

You took another sip from your glass, still watching him. He shrugged and sat down.

-Both I guess. 

His gestures, his posture...he was getting relaxed. You leisurely watched as he lifted his glass and took a sip. There was no way back now. You sighed and set down your glass. You stood up completely ignoring his confused expression. 

-I might have misjudged you, Gabriel. -You slowly walked over to him and sat on his lap. Of course, poison was working quickly so even if he wanted to get rid of you from there...he wasn’t able to. You watched his eyes widen in realization. - I’m sorry but you’re leaving me no choice. 

You looked him in the eye, searching for hatred. There was anger and fear...but no hatred. You liked it this way. You fished a small flask out of your pocket and presented it to him.

-Jut one drop kills. -You explained, your expression way more focused than before. -But I have an antidote. So you have…-You looked over at the clock and frowned.- Around ten minutes to answer my questions. 

-And if I don’t?

He hissed at you, his palms clenching into fists helplessly. Fully human or not...he must’ve felt as if he was dying. Strange mixtures you had in your little armoury indeed...

-Then you die. Not painlessly...you’ll first lose your consciousness, then your brain will start slowly melting in your skull...But I guess we don’t have time for more detailed explanations, do we?

You placed your hands on his tights. You liked how steady they felt under your weight. 

-Stop toying with me then.

He grumbled at you. You just nodded in response.

-Yes. Probably a good idea. -You tilted your head. -Tell me...what were you doing in my backyard?

You watched him struggle to talk. It gripped your heart tightly but you knew you had to do it. He made you.

-I was watching you.

-Why?

You asked without hesitation. You knew as much.

-It was a one year anniversary of your husband’s death. I wanted to see how were you doing.

You contemplated the answer for a while. You decided you were satisfied with that.

-Why were you here a year ago, after his funeral?

His eyes locked with yours. He was holding himself up bravely but you knew you were running out of time. The silence lingered for a few long seconds before he looked away and eventually spoke up.

\- I followed you then. And I watched you. For all this time, ever since I was asked to kill the Scorpion. 

-Why?

Nothing more needed adjusting. You just sat there, waiting for his responses.

-I don’t know. You were left alone and hopeless...and when your husband was gone, you dissolved into a mess. You seemed vulnerable and weak all this time. I wanted to make sure you were fine.

You raised an eyebrow but no fancy remark left your lips. You barely stopped a chuckle at the irony.

-How did you got wounded?

He shot you a weak glare. The poison was taking a tool at him very quickly...it must’ve had something to do with his abilities, you noted.

-An old friend tracked me. He knew I will be here...And he got me by surprise.

That was all you needed to know. You nodded and stood up, your lips barely brushing his forehead. He looked more annoyed than anything but you knew that gesture caught his hazed mind by surprise.

-It wasn’t that hard, was it? What you cooked must be lovely but, sadly, I can’t have any of that at the moment.

You watched patiently as he seemed to come back to life, his confused stare still at you.

-What...what is this poison? You said you had an antidote!

-Ah, about that...

Soft smile graced your lips again. You showed the fragile, little bottle to him. You walked over to the sink and, to his horror, you crushed it against the side of it, careful not to get yourself cut in the process.

-Numbing poison. There is no need for antidote, it will wear off soon enough. Oh, and I would not drink any more of that wine if I were you.

You headed to the living room to grab a glass of liquor. You heard something break in the kitchen...well, losses were to be expected. When he entered the room his legs were still wobbly. You were sat in the armchair close to the window, observing snowflakes softly landing on the ground. 

It was snowing again. 

You were really good at screwing things up for yourself and for everyone around. You knew your guest was a rather...temperamental one. And with all that anger directed towards you for threatening to take his life...it might have been a bit much. He dropped his gun twice already. Three times a charm after all. You watched his reflection in the glass, for the time being ignoring the snow. 

You wanted to see his eyes when he pulled the trigger. 

But he never took out his gun. 

He was staring at you, as if unsure of what to do next. You knew he was furious. You would have been too if someone did that to you. You watched him approach you for a few seconds but then decided to take a long sip out of your glass. When you put it down, Gabriel was right in front of you.

-I have no idea how to deal with you, woman...You’re doing that on purpose. You’re insane. 

He stated simply. You gave him a small shrug. He didn’t discovered anything new.

-Maybe.

-Why didn’t you just asked?

You looked him right in the eye.

-Would you answer if I did? If you knew that your life wasn’t threatened?

-I would have.-He surprised you. But not enough to do anything more than lift an eyebrow at him.- Just...maybe not yet.

You sighed. You were not a child...you knew you didn’t had enough time for him to actually be ready to talk to you. He was fine to leave as he was at the moment. There was nothing stopping him from doing so. And you were sure he was also aware of it. So no, there was not enough time for being subtle about it.

-When?

He was hiding his anger quite well. And you honestly appreciated that he decided not to roam your home as a dark mist. You were in no mood for that.

-Whenever you stopped acting like a fucking martyr! -Confused, you watched him come even closer to you. He probably wanted to intimidate you...maybe. - You keep saying past is past and this kind of bullshit yet, you never got back to normal after your husband died. You quit the job that paid you more than well. You escaped from people. You DRINK instead. And now you’re trying to push me to kill you. What a shitty excuse of an assassin are you?!

His voice was harsh, same as his words. You wanted to disagree...but you couldn’t. Ever since Jacob died all you did was...nothing. So basically only think and drink. You quit your job to somehow deal with the loss but even a year after nothing changed. After a pause he continued, his breath hitched from the outburst.

-Join the Talon.

His voice was unnaturally calm. You weren’t expecting that. You frowned.

-No.

Maybe it was just your stubbornness speaking but you were sure you could come up with at least few reason why it was a bad idea.

-Then sign up to the Overwatch.

_That_ was even a worse idea. You’ve heard about the organization but honestly, wanted nothing to do with it. It was complicated.

-No.

-You’re wasting your skills.

-Why do you care?

Your voice was weak this time. And it wasn’t because he was indeed intimidating you, his face only inches away from your. It wasn’t because you wanted him to leave you in peace. It was because years ago you decided to let go yet, you were still as attached as at the day when you first met Jacob. And it was too hard to let go. He was looking at you. He was staring right into your soul and you couldn’t stop him. You didn’t wanted to stop him.

-Because I fucked up and only you’re suffering as an outcome. You never deserved it. Just...do something with your life?

His voice was calm, his palm slowly covering yours. You didn’t understand. You felt as if the tables were turning but you never asked for the turn to happen.

-I tried to kill you.

You stated simply as if a single sentence could stop all of that. He sighed.

-No, you didn’t. You made me think that I was dying. I killed your husband and almost killed you instead. Twice.

-Why didn’t you?

Your voice became a whisper. You weren’t curious. It was almost a plea for him to finish his job. But he never did. Instead his hand sneaked itself behind your head, pulling your hair loose.

-I couldn’t.

He stated simply. Just a second later his lips clashed with yours, sending shivers down your spine. It was wrong, weird, electric...and you almost forgot how fantastic it was to be held this way. You didn’t protested as his other hand slid from your palm to the small of your back. Even more, you were amazed how easily he managed to lift you up and shift your positions so you were sat on his lap, firmly pressed against his body and your lips still connected. 

When you eventually parted, you had no idea what to say or do next. You rested one of your palms on his chest and lifted yourself enough to be able to freely stare into his eyes. You were looking for something...But all you noticed was that the anger, so well pronounced before, was not there any more. 

-For long?

You asked, your voice calm.

-A year or so. I told you I was watching you.

He answered equally calmly. And you couldn’t help but smile. Just a little bit. He just rolled his eyes at you and pressed your body to his chest, cradling you.

 

***

Another week went past quickly.

Did much change?

Not really. 

Life got to normal for a week or so.

Gabriel left, thanking you for care and promising he would return.

And you thought the promise was just a blunt lie until he showed up again. This time you were talking, watching the flames in the fireplace, your legs leisurely draped across his lap. It felt weird to feel his glove-less palms run up and down your calves but you didn’t minded. 

-You really should do something though. 

-Like what? -You mused, your head resting on a pillow. It was weird...maybe too normal to what you got used. -It’s not like I was trained to do whatever they do there...in Overwatch or Talon. I’m in no shape. I know how to shoot...but that’s about it. I just used to kill people...you know?

It sounded blunt. And even Gabriel chuckled at your statement. 

-Plus. -You continued, you actually wanted to get a point across. -Everyone thinks I’m dead. I can lay low for once. And I’m not exactly good with people.

-Oh, really now? What about Alex?

He asked, a bit of mockery present in his voice. Of course, you didn’t buy it. 

-I can’t be too harsh to her, she’ll rise prices.

He chuckled again...and it felt surreal to hear that grump chuckle even more.

-Go work in hospital then? From what I’ve seen you patched me up quite nicely.

You felt like you’re going to choke on your rum. Mixed with water this time. You started doing that only recently, sometimes replacing the rum with just water. That, of any things, was weird. What was also weird? He tried to make you something. Anything.

-Nope. I have no degree in medicine. -You glared at him as much as you could from your position. You actually felt very small this way…-I don’t need a new occupation. Why won’t you just let me drink myself to death?

-Because…-You felt him grab your palm and bring it up. His cold lips just barely brushed your knuckles. -You helped me. I’ve seen you work and you’re way too young for retirement.

You frowned, refusing to look at him any more.

-The hell do you plan to do with me then?

And you already knew that you shouldn’t have asked at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, FINE.
> 
> I like trains.  
> I like comments too.  
> So if you feel like what you see is worth one: I would appreciate it.


End file.
